Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

women that big have problems that i wouldn't want to spend the next 10 years trying to understand and correct or live with... not being able to say no to little debbie snack cakes is one of them... there are plenty of black men for those kinds of women...

psy's sister is hot though (which is where this conversation originated from) but, i can see why your not interested... not enough junk in that trunk, am i right?? ...

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yeah, i just got done talking to a friend complaining about getting too many presents this year... apparently her boyfriend went overboard and bought her a ton of stuff, probably spending over $500... and she told me she spent like $50 total on his, lol ... obsessive much?? lol, if he knew her any better he'd know that was a dumb idea as she doesn't like wasting money like that... but whatever, if he wants to blow his money, more power to him... just don't expect more out of her...

my friend seems more distant and reserved since she started dating him... i can tell she wants out somehow but is afraid to crush him since he just got done with a divorce... she sure knows how to pick 'em ... she tells me she values her independence but then goes an dates one of those clingers that doesn't let you breath without them there to provide the air...

/rant... i just thought that was funny to be honest... who the hell complains about getting too many gifts?!

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QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

i don't how women do it but holy shit can they put on the pounds after eating a salad... give a women a fish and she'll eat for a day... teach a women how to fish and she'll become fat somehow off of fish... the best indicator for being a possible fatty down the road is by looking at the size of their upper arms... if they hold their arm straight and you see a cone effect, back away... the top of that cone is what the rest of the body could look like with a little bit of laziness... it's also how you can spot a former fatty...

or maybe it's just me, but this method works...

wow, it's amazing how easy it is to get off-topic nowadays... this place needs some more action...

This post has been edited by bOnEs: Dec 28 2010, 09:20 PM

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QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

psy's sister is hot though (which is where this conversation originated from) but, i can see why your not interested... not enough junk in that trunk, am i right?? ...

Nah, I'm mostly into skinny girls, I just don't mind a chubby girl.

QUOTE (bOnEs @ Dec 28 2010, 03:02 PM)

i can tell she wants out somehow but is afraid to crush him since he just got done with a divorce...

If you want to help, you can always scare him off. A friend of mine started getting annoyed with her boyfriend, but was similarly hesitant to break up with him. She explained what he was like and asked me to come over and hang out while he was there, and not to restrain myself if he got on my nerves. Obviously, he did get on my nerves, and I responded with hateful yelling and violent threats. He never spoke to her again. Mission accomplished.

QUOTE (Stoic Person Eater @ Dec 28 2010, 03:51 PM)

Hmm, I miss chubby girls. More cushion for the pushin'. The only problem with cute chubby girls is they eventually turn into fat women, hence my skinny wife.

Every girl turns unpleasant at some point. I just hope you signed a pre-nup, or you'll be fucked when the misses' looks go downhill. Unless you married a witch or some other girl who maintains her looks through unnatural means.

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QUOTE (Darth Sexy @ Sep 12 2009, 03:43 AM)

Massacre, you make me look like a rational, moral, kind person.

QUOTE (Marney1 @ Oct 26 2009, 01:22 PM)

Massacre - What you've just posted is sick and disturbing...

QUOTE (ViceMan @ Jan 17 2010, 04:22 PM)

When Massacre is around, everything is violated... Whether it likes it or not.

i can tell she wants out somehow but is afraid to crush him since he just got done with a divorce...

If you want to help, you can always scare him off. A friend of mine started getting annoyed with her boyfriend, but was similarly hesitant to break up with him. She explained what he was like and asked me to come over and hang out while he was there, and not to restrain myself if he got on my nerves. Obviously, he did get on my nerves, and I responded with hateful yelling and violent threats. He never spoke to her again. Mission accomplished.

she'd never admit to needing help or wanting out... she's one of those, "i can take on the world!" kind of women... she's always right so, she wouldn't want to admit she's wrong until it's almost too late... and i don't want to step in an intervene either... it's not in my nature to get involved in other people's issues unless i get dragged in... it's happened before and both sides weren't happy with my results...

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QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM)

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.

Even I draw the line at the vast majority of smokers. Also, define "fat." I've had some spectacular chubby girls, but we're talking "likes a good meal," not "average Oprah viewer."

Lol what? What is an average Oprah viewer, is it an obese woman?

QUOTE (bOnEs @ Dec 28 2010, 10:19 PM)

the best indicator for being a possible fatty down the road is by looking at the size of their upper arms... if they hold their arm straight and you see a cone effect, back away... the top of that cone is what the rest of the body could look like with a little bit of laziness... it's also how you can spot a former fatty...

or maybe it's just me, but this method works...

I have to pay more attention to their upper arms and see if it's true...I check out their mothers, it works too.